


The Incident

by sansybones, withtheworms



Series: Rehab Cabin DLC [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, PDBM (public displays of blue magic), Post-Pacifist Ending, Sans loses his cool and it's a breaking-point moment for everyone involved, panic attack (mentioned), pre-cabin, rehab cabin DLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7774765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansybones/pseuds/sansybones, https://archiveofourown.org/users/withtheworms/pseuds/withtheworms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Rehab Cabin DLC fic by @withtheworms</p>
<p>Summary: Set post-Pacifist ending, with monsters now living among humans on the surface.  Struggling to adjust to life above-ground, and having burned through a slew of short-lived jobs, Sans is offered a part-time gig at Nice Cream Guy’s ice cream parlour.  Low-pressure, low-stress, working food-service with a familiar face-- it’s perfect.  Until Nice Cream Guy suddenly <i>really</i> needs to talk to Papyrus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Rehab Cabin DLC fic/au/extended headcanon by myself and SansyBones. In a nutshell: Resets messed Sans up beyond repair and he has no concept of chronological time. Things get bad before they get better, but nothing's ever really "okay." It's sad! Anyway, there's (lots) more here: http://rehabcabin.tumblr.com/

The bell hung above the door of Dressed In Time, the clothing and dress shop where Papyrus worked, jangled as it swung open.  

Papyrus had been midway through refolding a stack of pastel floral-print button-down shirts, humming loudly and out of tune to himself, when he heard someone clear their throat to his left.  It was a drizzly afternoon and the shop hadn’t had many customers, an absence of excitement that had lulled him into an idle state of distraction, and he felt immediately foolish for having let himself zone out like that.

“I’m so sorry, where are my manners? Hello! Is there anything I can- _Guy_!”  

He abandoned his shirts half-folded, gathering the lanky blue rabbit monster that was standing just inside the door into a tight hug before the other monster could react.  

Nice Cream Guy (“ _just Guy_ ,” he usually insisted) smiled and hugged him back stiffly, patting his shoulder once before Papyrus let him go.

“It’s so good to see you! How’s the parlour? Are you here to shop? Anything I can help with? Work or casual?” The questions came out in an excited jumble and Guy continued smiling, though the expression was somewhat forced, the hand that had been on Papyrus’ shoulder shifting to rub the base of one of his long ears.

“It’s good to see you, too, Papyrus.  Parlour’s… um, fine.  Not here to shop today, no.  Um…” He glanced around the store, checking for any other customers or coworkers. “Are we alone?”

Papyrus nodded his head, grinning. “Susie’s off sick, and Andre’s only working weekends, now.  Miranda’s on lunch, but she’ll be back within the hour.” He paused, the question sticking out to him only after he’d answered it. “Why do you ask?”

“Um…” Guy laughed nervously, and for the first time Papyrus noticed how fake his expression looked.  Guy’s ridiculously outgoing personality was on par with Papyrus’ own affable demeanour, and the changed attitude wasn’t suiting him at all. “Well it’s just… we need to talk.”

Papyrus’ mind raced, a small gasp escaping him as he immediately made an assumption.

“It’s not Burgy, is it? Oh, Guy, what anniversary did he miss this time?”

“What? Oh, no!” Guy waved a hand, shaking his head so quickly his ears flopped around almost comically. “Burgy and I are fine! He’s fine.  That’s not what I’m-” he paused, glancing around again. “Look… is there a back room, or something? I’m– just in case…”

If it wasn’t something to do with Burgerpants, Papyrus was struggling to think what could possibly put a damper on Guy’s spirits.  All the same, he gestured towards the door behind the till, which lead to a small storeroom wedged between the change rooms.

“It’s not Sans,” he said matter-of-factly, though a degree of concern _was_ edging into his voice. “I know he didn’t miss his shift, we walked to work together.”

Papyrus’ mind was moving fast, trying to figure out what could possibly have happened.  His walk to work with Sans had been so pleasant.  Sans had been in a genuinely good mood, laughing and talking easily, regaling Papyrus with an update on who had been kicked off the previous evening’s Bachelorette episode.  They’d made plans to meet after work to celebrate the anniversary of Sans’ second week of employment at Nice Cream Guy’s ice cream parlour; a job offer that had been extended out of desperation (Sans having burned through every other job he’d had since they relocated to the surface), but which seemed to actually be working out incredibly well for everyone involved.

Papyrus had left Sans at the door of the ice cream shop.  Had waved and watched him as he’d gone in.  There was no way he could have ditched out.

“No, he showed up.” Guy closed the storeroom door behind them, leaning his back against it as if to help keep himself propped up. “That’s, um… that’s actually part of the problem.”

Papyrus’ mind was racing, jumping from one concern to another as he conjured up a steadily increasing number of worst case scenarios. “Was there an accident? He isn’t hurt, is he? Guy, what-”

“No! Papyrus, listen, look: he’s fine.” Safely in the enclosed space the last of Guy’s forced smile fell and he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he struggled to collect his thoughts and taking a deep breath before he looked directly at Papyrus. “This… Okay, I don’t want you to panic, alright?”

“Guy.” Papyrus’ voice was as firm as he could manage. “Please tell me what is going on.”

Guy grimaced, unable to meet Papyrus’ eyes, his attention instead fixing somewhere near the skeleton’s feet.

The next words he said made Papyrus’ blood run cold, and in retrospect he was glad Guy had insisted on privacy.

“Sans, uh… he flipped out, yesterday.  Um.  At work.  Pretty bad.”

His hand moved, scratching the back of his ear in what Papyrus now realized was a nervous gesture.

“He attacked a kid, Papyrus.  With… with that blue magic stuff he’s got.  The place was packed, and there was this big group of kids and one of them was laughing, m… maybe a bit too loud, and jumping around and he just… he snapped.  He threw that blue magic at them and pinned them against the wall and was yelling at them like they'd done something awful, I don’t know _what_ it was about…” he paused, taking a deep breath that shuddered its way into his lungs. “The kid wasn’t hurt, he dropped them pretty quick.  But Sans was… it was bad.”

If Papyrus was hearing Guy at this point, it was only a fraction of his words.  The rest of the world seemed to fill with an overwhelming static that packed his skull and drowned out everything else.  He didn’t have a conscious memory of it, but he found himself having sat down heavily on a box of cleaning supplies, his hands clutching his elbows as he hugged his arms across his chest.

“I- I got pretty angry.  I told him to go home.  I’d never seen him like that, y’know? It was like a panic attack with a messed up blue light show attached.  You should’ve seen his _eyes_ \- or… eye, I guess…” Guy was still talking, he’d tugged one of his ears down, and was worrying the tip of it with his fingers. “I told him not to come back.  I told him– Look, he attacked a _child_ , Papyrus.  Do you know how bad that looks? Do you know how bad that could be for _all_ of us? I mean, we’re trying to make a good impression up here, and he just–” he broke off abruptly, letting go of his ear. “I lost my cool and he just… I don’t know, he just blinked out, right there in front of everyone.  He disappeared.  And I had this big mess on my hands, so I thought…” he trailed off, shrugging once, as if that was explanation enough. “But then this morning he shows up and acts like _it never happened_.  He walks in and he’s standing right next to where he lost his mind because an eleven year old talked too loud, and he’s laughing about how Doggo owes him ten bucks because of some _tv show_.”

A list was forming in Papyrus’ mind: A dozen other jobs, a dozen other ex-employers citing irrational behaviour.  A dozen other dismissive hand-waves from Sans.  A lazy wink and a smile, an easy excuse, explaining that they just didn’t appreciate what he was bringing to the table.

“I told him to get out.  I told him I don’t want to see him there ever again.” Guy managed a small, cynical scoff. “He asked _me_ what _my_ problem was, and then stormed out.  It’s like he didn’t even remember it had happened.”

Papyrus couldn’t do or say anything, couldn’t rationalize what he was hearing with the grinning skeleton who had _voluntarily_ helped out in the kitchen and joked his way through an entirely pleasant evening at home the previous night, apparently mere hours after having had a violent nervous breakdown in public.

“Why didn’t you tell me right when it happened?”

The question hung in the air and Guy winced, looking guilty. 

“There was a lot of damage control to do, Papyrus.  I had to deal with the humans.  We had to get Frisk in to… to mediate.  I thought, y’know, that when you got home… it’d be _obvious_.”

Papyrus shook his head, numb.

“The point is,” Guy said, taking a deep breath and squaring his thin shoulders. “We have _got_ to do something about your brother.”


End file.
